The Defeated
by maguena1
Summary: If Azula never recovers herself...


Disclaimer: I do not own _Avatar: The Last Airbender._

Note: I'd like to show my appreciation for readers and reviewers somehow by writing more, but that's not always easy. I've accumulated a lot of incomplete character sketches and stories that went nowhere in the past few years, though. So when I'm stuck on BOTB, I'm going to try to rescue and finish a few old fragments.

 **The Defeated**

The sanatorium had promised to help. It was the only place where anyone had experience dealing with people like Azula. At sixteen, with the weight of all his new responsibilities upon him, Zuko hadn't hesitated for a second. They had to do something for her. Prison or house arrest were his other two options; this could be better. Safer all around. He knew there was little chance anyone could do anything for her, but the staff said "maybe," and he _hoped_ …

He's only twenty-one, but he feels old. A war doesn't end neatly just because the fighting is over. Turning a whole nation around doesn't happen just because he's said some words. And his sister isn't going to get better just on hope. Twice the sanatorium has been attacked, so as to obtain someone who'd help to overthrow his rule. She'd gone happily both times. Twice, the plan transformed to "puppeting the figurehead." He got her back each time, lost and screaming.

Azula looks younger every time he sees her.

It took him several months to make the first visit. "Oh, so you've finally remembered," she greeted him. The look on her face, the arch challenge of her voice, made him think that she hadn't changed at all. Then she paused. Not one of her effective pauses, just long enough for her to deliver the next well-timed barb. An awkward pause.

He hadn't wanted to come. A restless, free-floating anger overfilled him whenever he thought about it. He felt too much about her – hate and love all mixed together. Most of all, he felt mistreated by her. They had never been like normal siblings. He knew now what that would actually be like. He was so tired of being nothing but a target to her. She could only hate him more for putting her in this place, and he felt guilty enough about it himself that he couldn't bear for her to rub it in. On several visits, she certainly tried, and he was left to try to defend himself – badly, as always, losing the argument as always – then shake for days. Figure out snappy comebacks far too late.

What remained was this: he could always walk out, and she stayed. So sometimes, what happened was this: she was just quiet and passive. Stared out the window for hours.

The physician in charge of her case told Zuko that this was a good sign. That for someone as disordered as Azula, the quiet was the best thing. Peaceful reflection, the physician said. The best thing for her. Really. Zuko wanted desperately to believe that.

He can't let her out. She's not better. Even if he surrounds her with servants to guide and guard her every step, she can't deal normally with any people. She doesn't like them looking at her. Even in the sanatorium, she still sometimes screams at imaginary mistakes she's committed. Less than when she first came, but it has never stopped completely.

She'd still jump at the chance to wage civil war against him, if she ever got back her sanity. What has he done for her to hate him like this?

The terrifying, probable thing is that she doesn't really want anything. Even fighting with him is just habit.

Despite everything, he's accomplished quite a number of victories in the past few years. He even feels like he's mostly defeated the shadow of his father by now. Is it because he never really won against Azula that he feels this way about her? This angry, sad mess? He hated how she always got the better of him, but… it was normal. She was brilliant and talented. He used to watch her, try to figure out how she did it. Sometimes, when they played together, it was so great. If she got better, and at least wanted to cooperate with him… If that happened, he could do something for her. If she were willing to become an advisor, her intellect and talent for strategy would be invaluable. If she wanted nothing to do with him, but could rule justly, he could give her a governorship. If she wanted to study something with the intensity she once studied firebending, he'd be cheering her on all the way, because she'd be sure to become the best at whatever it was.

She looks younger every time he sees her. She's stuck. When his newborn daughter cries, he sometimes fears that Azula will become to him something like a child, rather than his sister. He'll lose her. He'll indulge her with the opportunity to cut him down, and he'll never stop visiting no matter how much it hurts, but she'll never come out.

He wishes with all his might that he knew of something that Azula wanted that he could let her have.


End file.
